


Andruil is not negotiating

by birdroid



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Not Beta Read, Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 17:49:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19256146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdroid/pseuds/birdroid
Summary: Andruil is not negotiating. But then again, neither is Fen'Harel.





	Andruil is not negotiating

**Author's Note:**

> Written in Russian by me. Translated to English by me.

At first, these degenerates thought that a bolt of lightning has hit the mountain. Then, that it was another lightning burning down three camps, depriving them of grain stocks and destroying a ferry down to flinders, all at once.

When Andruil's arrow hit the temple of Fen'Harel, these ugly pygmys finally grasped it. The weather has nothing to do with it.

They have unleashed the wrath of a goddess upon themselves.

Fen'Harel's body is lying on the floor, twitching from a chain of painful spasms. Andruil is almost ashamed of having her eyes glued on burns and abrasions on one of the last of her kind, but then again, this troublemaker was never one of her kind, to begin with. In an elegant motion, with a metallic tip of her boot, she turns him over on his back and then steps onto his chest. Fen'Harel looks up at her, his gaze hazy, and, oh, he's so unworthy of such a sight.

"You have lost", Andruil purrs. "The Hunt for the Dread Wolf is over".

Fen'Harel puts his hands on her boot and makes a baby-like attempt at pushing her off his chest. Andruil laughs up at the sky and in return stomps down hard, again and again, crushing down his bones, his heart, and his damned pride too, until his ribcage is nothing more than a crimson mess.

Fen'Harel stops twitching. And he, pale and defeated, looks so perfect right now.

She spits at his face and then, not bothered at all by her leg still being deep in his wound, pulls her pants down, collects the skirts of her robe up and pisses over him, marks him the same way a wolf marks his territory, as he would have probably approved.

"I see you have accepted my invitation after all".

Her heart almost jumps out. She hurriedly fixes her clothes, turns around and almost trips over in doing so. Her leg, her leg is stuck!

The Fen'Harel stands at the entrance behind her, triumphant, neat and in one piece.

Her leg is stuck in a carcass of some stinky dead animal.

"How is this possible? Is this one of your tricks?"

Fen'Harrel comes closer. His eyes are flickering blue.

"It is, indeed. Did you like it? My vantage point provided a rather poor view of it".

Andruil grips her bow tighter.

"I have prepared one more trick for you", Fen'Harel says.

"A trick with a disappearing goddess", he says.


End file.
